


Name: Simon. Occupation: Colossal Fucking Idiot.

by wutthequiznack (birbsandemidogs04)



Category: Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Oreos, Y'all know what I mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 04:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16360790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birbsandemidogs04/pseuds/wutthequiznack
Summary: Simon Spier might be the worst boyfriend in the world.Might be.





	Name: Simon. Occupation: Colossal Fucking Idiot.

Bram is literally the most perfect boyfriend. Like, he's perfect. There's no other way to describe it.

He's always grinning at me -- beautiful smiles that he has to turn around in his seat for, that make the corners of his mouth crinkle and his teeth show. By extension, I always catch him looking at me, but I don't mind because afterwards I realize that I had to have been gazing at him first. It's not like I can help it -- he's so freaking beautiful. I feel like, no matter how many times I say it, I can't express it enough.

I mean, on top of this, he sits with me and Abby and Leah and Nick at lunch and holds my hand, and even though he always begs for my fries, I feel like it's worth it. Sometimes I buy fries just for him, just so he can ask me and I can watch his eyes light up as he takes a handful and eats them, squeezing my hand under the holey table.

When we're not at school, he comes over to my house before Nora or my parents get home from school and work, and we go up to my room. Sometimes we do homework, because I lucked out with a class-A nerd for a boyfriend who actually enjoys writing essays. Other times, well. Most times, we end up making out on my bed. I gotta say that I prefer making out to homework, and I've got a genuinely good reason for it: I just really fucking love kissing Bram.

There's something about the taste of him that drives me crazy -- I feel like it's all his own. I can't even describe it. I can't describe how it feels when I hold his face and pull him to my lips, when our mouths first touch and open, or when I grab his waist in both hands and he climbs on top of me and I run my hands up and down his arms while he's kissing me because I love the way his muscles bulge slightly, not too big, around my fingers. And then when he leans down closer so that our foreheads are touching and I can pull him even closer in. He's always so warm and nice, and sure. And he'll open his eyes after we stop for a few moments to take a breath, and I'll open mine and see him grinning and flushed as he stares back at me. Sometimes he chuckles and looks away like he's embarrassed and he's so pretty when he does that, I laugh too, but in reality I just want to kiss him again. Usually I do. Sometimes our positions get flipped.

Anyway. The point is, Bram is the most fucking perfect boyfriend there is. Even if I had been with guys before him, I'm pretty sure I'd say the same thing now. Like, I have zero experience when it comes to this boyfriend stuff but Bram is a pretty amazing first. I still wear that Elliott Smith shirt he gave me to bed.

But I am not the most perfect boyfriend. I wouldn't even call myself "good". Am I halfway decent? Yeah. I think so. At least. But good? Not as good as Bram, for sure. For instance, I still don't really know his favourite colour -- but you never really start with the basics when you're going to be with somebody. It's weird like that.

Plus, I always feel like he's the one to initiate stuff like hand-holding or soft, small, greeting kisses he gives me whenever he sees me. It's not that I'm embarrassed or anything -- not fucking likely. I guess I just don't know how to be a good boyfriend. I don't know. How do I compete?

Because I always forget stuff and fudge things and mess up and give Bram all these reasons to not want to be with me. I'm such a fucking klutz, honestly, it's not even funny. I'm always making mistakes and tripping over things, partly also because of my nerves around Bram, but he just laughs like it's cute or whatever. When I fall over, he does this thing where he'll grab me and just like in the movies, he dips me for a few seconds before righting me, and I stare into his eyes for more than a couple of moments and fall even more in love with him.

Apart from this, like I said, I forget things. I lose my train of thought. Bram's pretty organized compared to me, and even though we're both pretty smart, I would be lost without him. I mean, the things I forget are usually like pages for homework or money to pay Leah or Abby back or something, so overall they're harmless.

But the thing I forgot about that really made me hate myself? Bram's birthday.

\--

Yeah, I know. My boyfriend's actual fucking birthday. What a dick move, right?

January 18th. The day Bram Greenfeld was born and the when, 17 years later, he's my actual boyfriend. He'd told me that his email gave his birthday away, so I'd known beforehand when his birthday was. I guess I'd just forgotten.

The day of his birthday is a week and a couple of days before first semester exams roll around, so naturally everyone that cares about their grades is cramming early. I mean, I care about my grades and everything, but my general rule is: don't study for an exam until the night before. I always make the excuse that it helps keep things fresher in your memory, but it's really just me bullshitting my way through being lazy.

Bram told me the day before his birthday, an arm around my shoulders at lunch (which I still lose my shit over) that he's studying bits every day, amidst a discussion of how exactly to study after I brought up my golden rule. Like, Bram studies, and he's smart, but he has a life. He doesn't devote all his time to his studies, like some kids. I love that about him too. I don't know. I feel like, when you're in love with someone, you look for the good in everything about them. I'm pretty sure Bram could tell me he's incontinent and I would find a way to turn that into a positive.

Anyway. Point is. I guess that I end up thinking Bram's studying, so he's all wrapped up in something and therefore so am I. I don't exactly know what kind of logic that is, but I went with it.

And when I'm slumped over my desk the next day in homeroom, flicking my pen back and forth over my paper, and hear Bram's name in the birthdays section, I just about freak.

Panic mode. Oh, my fuck. That's it. Is it really his birthday today?   
I check the date. Fuck. It's January 18th. I'm such a giant fucking moron.

Oh, fuck. How's Bram going to take it? I don't want him to be angry, but then he has a right to be. I know that as soon as my birthday rolls around he's going to have a card and a gift and everything. And I forgot his.

Lunchtime comes around and I head to our usual table with Abby and Nick while Leah gets the sheet cake. The guilt is really starting to set in now -- I don't have a present or anything. I really hate myself right now.

I see Bram sitting with his back to me. On impulse I walk forwards and grab him from behind.

I clutch his shoulders and kiss his neck, because I can, and because it makes me blush to be this close to him. He gazes up at me and touches my cheek, then leans up to kiss me, and it lingers. "Hey," he says smiling, when he turns.

I feel pretty bad right about now. "Hey," I say back. "Um, happy birthday."

As long as I don't tell him I forgot, he won't know it.

I put on one of the red party hats Abby went out and bought, which are currently in high demand because everyone wants a piece of that cake. Then I come around and sit next to Bram, grabbing his splayed hand over the table.

Bram turns to me and smiles. "Thanks."

There's silence for a beat until Abby comes over with Nick and pats Bram's shoulder. "So? What do you think of the cake?"

Bram grins. "I love it."

It hadn't taken long for the rest of our friends to pick up on the Oreo thing I have going with Bram, partly because they knew I loved Oreos even before I started talking to Blue. So, naturally, Leah picked up an Oreo cake from the Dairy Queen, with vanilla icing and cookie crumbles on top. It looks really freaking great. But my nerves from forgetting Bram's birthday are making me not want to eat the cake. I take my hat off and put it on Bram instead as Abby and Nick sit across from us. Leah's putting the candles into the cake one by one, until there are seventeen of them -- she got rainbow ones.

"Ha-ha," I say, sarcastically. She raises her eyebrow at me with a wicked smile.

Nick pulls a lighter from the pocket of his jacket and flips it open, then lights each candle before putting it flat on the table.

"Make a wish," I say, squeezing Bram's hand.

He nods, closing his eyes for a moment and then opening them again. His eyelashes don't have the right to be so long and beautiful.

I let go of his hand as he grabs the knife to cut the cake. When he passes me a plate, I turn and give it to Taylor. I still don't feel like eating any. I'm not worth his birthday cake.

\--

Bram doesn't ask for a present, so I don't say anything. It kind of makes me feel even worse -- maybe he's not asking for his present because he just knows I forgot. Oh, God. Now I have to get him a present and do it quickly because I'm a freaking idiot. What do I get him? I needed months of planning for this. Why am I such a moron?

Ugh, Bram's gift would probably be heartfelt and perfect and exactly what I need and want. He's too perfect.

So of course I end up spilling the beans when he's at my house with me.

Everyone is hanging at my house after school, and Leah, Nick and Abby are in the kitchen eating some crackers I put out because my mom made me, as if I'm hosting a party and not my friends who I see every day. Bram and I go up to my room for "reasons" -- really, Abby and Nick's conspiratorial winks were getting to be too much. The minute we've shut the door, Bram's lips are on mine and I'm being pinned to the wall. I lean into him, putting my hands on his face and grinning, while he runs his hands over my waist.

My eyes close; I stumble over and topple onto my bed with him under me, and breathe hard as our lips separate.

He opens his eyes and they're shining -- and that's when the guilt really sets in and makes me ruin everything.

I blurt, "I forgot your birthday," and then roll off him, staring at the ceiling and wondering what the hell I've just done.

Bram leans on one elbow, looking at me. "What? You did?"

I cover my face with my hands and groan, pushing the heels of my hands into my eyelids so there's that kaleidoscope of weird colours from the pressure. "Yeah. I did. God, I'm the worst boyfriend in the world. I'm so sorry, Bram."

Bram starts to respond, but I cut him off. "No, I really freaking am. Don't try to convince me I'm not."

"Well, I won't, then," Bram says. "Even though you're not the worst boyfriend in the world. I forgive you."

I take my hands away from my eyes and look at him. "Come on. You can't forgive me that quickly."

"I do." Bram says. "Of course I do. It's not your fault you have a terrible memory."

I frown. "Hey."

Bram laughs, and I pull him into a sideways kiss when I see his teeth show.

"Besides," he says when we pull apart, "I know how you can make it up to me."

"You freaking dick," I mutter, and he laughs. And I know everything is ok.

\--

The next day I show up to first period with a mixtape of every song I could ever recommend, even though nobody makes mixtapes anymore, and I hand it to Bram. His mouth splits into a beautiful grin and his eyes crinkle and I almost don't move into my seat because my eyes are stuck on him. That is, until Abby nudges me hard from behind and basically forces me to move down the aisle.

Later at lunch he drags me out to the parking lot, to my car, and as we close the doors he reaches and kisses me. Fuck, he's good at that. I pause afterward and just look at him for a few seconds before grinning.

"What was that for?" I ask, but I already know the answer.

"Not being the worst boyfriend in the world," Bram replies. "And I'll be listening to the tape at home, on my mother's old walkman."

I laugh. "Oh, good. There are some freaking awesome songs on that."

Bram nods. "Freaking awesome," he repeats, and it sounds so weird coming from him that we both laugh.

And then I kiss him. Because I am officially not the worst boyfriend in the world.

\--

**Author's Note:**

> I finished Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda in three days and then watched the movie twice, crying four times between the two screenings. In conclusion: I really loved everything about Simon and Bram and all the other characters and so I wrote this on a whim. Something to help me out of my writer's block too. 
> 
> Enjoy!


End file.
